


Blind

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:52:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Mickey were blind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind

But still the baddest thug in the neighborhood because he could hear you coming and didn’t give a fuck if people pitied him or not? And once he got a hold of you, it was too easy to just keep hitting until he felt the familiar warm spurts of blood and cracking of bones. Of course, anyone could just point a gun at his head and he would never know it until he heard the click-boom of death. But who would even dare with the rest of his family being so able to see the grave they would be digging for them?

So he pops up from his sleep because he senses someone other than one of his siblings or his dad in his room. He doesn’t know how he heard the different presence because he was deep under, but somehow he knows it’s not threatening or hostile. Instead the person speaks low and apologizes for waking him up, then crosses the room to the bathroom and closes the door.

Mickey thinks he recognizes the voice being in his house before, probably one of Mandy’s boyfriends of the week. But he’s heard it at school in his classroom, helping out the other disabled while Mickey sits at his special computer and listens to his lesson. And also in the library, when he accidentally knocks a book from the shelf of braille literature and he picks it up for him and tells him it’s okay.

He thinks his name is Ian. He’s a Gallagher.

But he also thinks he was being watched for longer than it took for him to wake up.

When Ian comes back and goes to leave without saying anything, Mickey tells him to stop. He wants to meet him the only way he knows how, so he says to sit down next to him. Usually people laugh or get weirded out when he reaches for them, but not Ian. He doesn’t flinch away or ask questions. This could be a trick and Mickey could just as easily snap his neck…if he felt like going to jail for murder. But he just lets Mickey put his hands on him and run his fingers along his features. They’re really close. Mickey is trying to commit every aspect of his face to memory, because somehow he feels he’ll want to do this again. He wants to know this face without even having to think about it. His fingers move to Ian’s hair and run through it. It’s a little long. He wonders what color it is. He doesn’t ask because it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know what that color looked like, but he knows he definitely likes the texture. It’s soft, especially near the base of his neck.

And Ian shivers, his breath stumbling over its quickened pace. Mickey knows Ian blushes with embarrassment because he feels the heat rise into his cheeks. He doesn’t stop, though. He brings his hands down further, tracing the taut muscles and raised veins and jutting bones even though there’s no reason for him to need to know what this boy’s body is like. Still, his fingers keep moving across skin and fabric like they have a mind of their own. It could be really bad if someone walked in right then, but it could be really good if he just didn’t care and let this happen. What is this exactly?

Ian’s breathing is heavy, and he sort of moans when Mickey’s hands rest on his chest and massage his pecks a little. He doesn’t know why it’s taking so long for this guy to get to know him, but he’s thinking there is a lot more he wants him to find out. Maybe he should say something and go back to the livingroom to wait for Mandy to come back, or maybe he should stay right where he is to see where this goes. What is going on here?

Mickey really wishes he could see the look on Ian’s face, as he slides his hands up under his shirt and touches lightly on his stomach, but the little sounds he’s making are enough to keep him motivated. And damn these abs feel amazing. His fingertips are burning and tingling the more he rubs and passes them in every dip.

He’s going agonizingly slow because he doesn’t want to miss anything, but he can tell Ian doesn’t mind at all. He lifts his arms eagerly, as Mickey tugs his shirt over his head. He sighs when his palms make contact almost immediately, retracing their path a little more fervently this time. Ian can’t help himself. He needs more. He starts to lean in, but the hands on him tense and hold him back.

“Kiss me and I’ll make you like me,” Mickey says as harshly as he can through his arousal. He doesn’t know when it happened, but it’s egging him on to what he’s about to do. Is doing.

Ian contemplates whether Mickey will blind him, or make him fall even harder than he already has. And really it started from the first time he saw Mickey in that classroom. He had tested out of English and had a free period, so he said he would use it to help out with what the other students called the ‘special’ classes, and not in a good way. But what Ian found in watching Mickey was special in a good way. He never seemed to get down on himself or take any crap from anyone just because he couldn’t see. He made sure to keep the promise on his knuckles, if anyone even tried to feel sorry for him; disabling the able with his fists or anything he could reach. Whenever he looked at him, he couldn’t help but feel that Mickey was looking back at him in some way. Right now he wanted desperately for him to see him. To feel him and what he was feeling.

And Mickey has the same idea, as he takes his own shirt off then grips Ian by his sides and pulls him on top of him. Ian rests between his legs, and their chests come together, and it feels amazing. Despite what Mickey warned, Ian finds a loophole in his lips pressing to his neck and anywhere he could reach. Mickey’s distracted instantly, gasping and arching his back like he wants to get inside the boy on top of him. His hands slide down his back and find his ass and squeeze, bringing him closer. Ian breathes hotly on his neck where his tongue is slicking its way up and down and all around. It’s definitely not kissing, so it’s definitely within the bounds of Mickey not gouging his eyes out…if that’s really what he meant by his threat. He doesn’t know.

But he does know he wants Ian inside of him.

Everything is just a blur to Ian because one minute he is sucking hickey after hickey on Mickey’s pale skin, the next he is pounding into him hard. Really hard. Both their breaths get knocked out of them with each thrust, and Ian doesn’t know where he’s getting the strength from. All he hears is Mickey under him groaning and cursing, as he slams the boy into his mattress over and over. He feels him hanging onto him so tight, like he’s expecting to fall through any second. Ian keeps going because he’s close and he’s panting.

Mickey’s toes are curling and he’s biting at Ian’s arm when he’s not left breathless with every impact. And God, Ian is hitting hard inside him, reaching in deep and rough. He doesn’t know how they’ve managed it, because their pants aren’t even all the way pulled down, everything was so quick. He can’t think because his brain is on fire making him sense every single thing around him from the smell of their sweaty skin, to how close they both are. It feels like Ian is on an endless streak, determined to not go easy on the handicapped kid. It’s a good hurt that he doesn’t fully understand.

But when Mickey feels his orgasm punch out of him, he swears he sees every color he thought he never knew.

And he whimpers through its intensity, as he feels Ian come inside him; his forceful pounding gradually slowing, as they both come down.

All Mickey can do is keep making this little sound in his throat, because he can’t speak. Maybe now he’s gone deaf and mute, and he’s okay with that really. He hates that he can’t see Ian’s face, but he can’t even open his eyes. He just buries his face in Ian’s chest because he knows he’s looking at him.

Ian is trembling and Mickey knows he’s shaking. They don’t pull apart right way, but when they do it’s reluctant. It’s a miracle no one’s come looking for them.

So when Ian has his clothes on and is about to leave the room, Mickey stops him. He thanks Ian for letting him see him. And Ian thanks him for seeing more.

In that moment he doesn’t feel blind at all.


End file.
